


Cosplay Snow White (I Like it)

by tukimecca



Series: Baby, don't Like it [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Canon Related, Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut, Jaehyun is gentle Dom, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Taeyong is pampered princess, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Jaehyun ordered, Taeyong must follow. Taeyong said the song is written based on his imagination. Jaehyun doesn’t believe him.





	

_I’ll give you the role of a picture, I’m freaking honest_  
_My body is reacting, I’m not satisfied yet, I wanna play with your heartbeat_ _  
I hope you know, heartbeat, Fade away until I can’t hear it anymore_

Baby Don’t Like it - NCT 127

:::

“You have to write your name with your butt.”

If there was nobody else in the room – if there was no other seven people and dozens of crew plus camera capturing each and his every move, Taeyong would whimper right here, right there.

But there are – seven other people, their team-mates, and dozens of crew, and cameras, and Jaehyun is looking at him with darkening eyes despite his easy, friendly smile, like he didn’t just drop his voice to the edge of commanding.

Haechan, dear, sweet, preciously mischievous Haechan’s eyes twinkle, he grins, encouraging Jaehyun’s ridiculous demand. Whoever decided Jaehyun should be the one to punish him again? For a split-second, Taeyong wonders if anyone knows about their _relationship_ – that indeed, it’s true only Jaehyun has the right to give punishment between the two of them.

Of course nobody knows, logical part of Taeyong’s brain chides him. He has to react, anything, quick, or else people would notice the way his breath is caught in his throat, or the shaking of his pupils as he locks them with Jaehyun’s own flickering rich-mahogany.

He shifts his head to check on the staffs – if they’re okay with this idea or found it boring, but before he can fully turn, Doyoung has opened his mouth, counting; _one, two-_

“-two, three…” And of course Jaehyun has to follow too; ocean waves’ calm and steady; strong and sure; a command, one that Taeyong must obey, because he is Jaehyun’s Sub and the younger, big boy clad in rich-blue pajamas, looking up at him with quiet yet adoring supremacy, is his Dominant.

Jaehyun smiles proud and expecting, his eyes are saying; _you’re gonna be good boy for me, Hyung._

Taeyong inhales a lungful of air, quick, then, he starts wiggling his hips, relishing in the way Jaehyun carves his gaze on him. _I’m sure as hell, am._

:::

Sometimes Taeyong wonders - as Jaehyun’s long, dexterous finger slips between his dark locks, gripping a fistful of them in near bruising grip, jerking his head back that Taeyong’s long column of neck is exposed to his hungry, delirious mouth – if Jaehyun has really never done this with anyone else before.

His eyes are dark, blown and crackling with insatiate hunger. They lock Taeyong’s own swimming gaze under arrest, trapping him, compelling him to total surrender. And surrender Taeyong does, because it’s Jaehyun and all he wants to do is be _good_ for Jaehyun, to and with Jaehyun. The elder whimpers when hot, scalding tongue runs wet trail on his febrile skin. He would close his eyes if it wasn’t for Jaehyun’s earlier order.

“Look at me, don’t close your eyes,” he had commanded, and Taeyong answered with obedient _“Yes, Sir,”_ already half floating in pool of liquid sunshine. He opens his eyes then, watching every single of Jaehyun’s movement, burning them to his retina; the nimble fingers, the possessive yet tender touches, the dizzying kisses, the eyes that promise of sinful pleasure and blissful refuge.

The haven that only being owned could provide. A special place not just anyone can reach, beyond the 7th layer of heaven cloud yet with the iniquitous taste of netherworld.

Jaehyun slides his eyes shut, hiding the burning pool mahogany beneath soft skin. Taeyong keens as Jaehyun moves downward, mapping a sweltering path down Taeyong’s neck to his chest with slow, torturous kisses.

He crowds Taeyong’s smaller frame to shower room’s wall, pinning it with his huge body that consumes Taeyong like hell-fire; hot and marking, leaving imprints of him on every inch of Taeyong’s skin. _Mark me_ , the brunette thinks, moaning shamelessly when Jaehyun bites down on tender skin above his collar-bones. _Mark me, make me yours – I’m yours, I’m-_

“Mine,” Jaehyun growls, low and feral like hungry, unsated beast. He presses demanding fingers on the protruding bone on Taeyong’s left hip; claiming, branding. They’d leave bruise, and Taeyong finds himself not minding, too far gone in pleasure of being owned, of hearing his Jaehyun – his _Dominant_ – asserting control over him.

Taeyong moans with no shame, uninhibited. Mouth hanging open in vow not quite articulated – _I’m yours_ , he meant to say, and Jaehyun understands, catches his unverbalized pledge of submission with desirous, tender mouth. Taeyong departs to the next plane, arms wound around Jaehyun’s broad shoulders, clinging for his dear life.

The kiss is wet, vulgar, and dirty. Open-mouthed. Loud and immoral. Brazen like this audacious relationship between them, a secret they share together under the protective blanket of night and darkness.

He cannot quiet remember who started it, but he remember it begun with accidental _‘yes, sir!_ ’ tumbling out from Taeyong’s lips, caught in Jaehyun’s throat, and the younger had stilled, startled with dilated-pupils locking into Taeyong’s. There was curious flutter peppering kisses on Taeyong’s skin then, making his heart palpitated faster, and head spinning. He remembered feeling weird tingle in his stomach, cock stirring when Jaehyun reacted at his affirmation.

The thought couldn’t leave his head for weeks, until Taeyong was finally at the edge, always waking up in the morning from a dream of him on his all fours, begging Jaehyun to claim all of him, to own him, to make him his and his alone. To be dictated by Jaehyun's mellifluous words and governing arms.

The similar notion had apparently plagued Jaehyun’s mind like cancer, and one day when there was nobody else but two of them in the dorm; Taeyong wearing Johnny’s oversized hoodie that he accidentally left and sweat pants that slipped easily off his thin hips without the draw-string, Jaehyun in his thin cotton t-shirt that pressed on all right planes of his lean muscles, the outbreak happened.

They’re sitting together on the couch, idly watching some random gag program. There’s a distance between them, rift gaping open, length stretching infinite but not uncrossed. Separating them yet connecting. Thrumming with strain, sending the vibration right under their skin, leaving them queasy and bothered.

The younger had watched Taeyong with a frown, frequent scowl whenever he would pull on the long sleeves of Johnny’s hoodie. Of course the elder was conscious; of course he kept on fiddling with the fleece material in purpose, trying to gauge Jaehyun’s reaction.

Nobody can tell who moved first; who reached out to seek and who reached out to find. The bridge was built, and with eager, hungry limbs they met in the middle. Jaehyun discarded the offensive piece of garment off from Taeyong’s skin like it’s toxic, impatient and hurried.

The furniture averted their eyes away from the ravenous two, pitying the still, creaking couch where Jaehyun ended up fucking Taeyong in slow, languid pace. Repeating _mine, mine_ , over and over again like it’s the vocabulary he had learnt.

The possessiveness strangled Taeyong in a good way, painful yet rewarding, proving you that you’re alive, and it’s sick, like the way he had come undone with a mere “come” spilling out from Jaehyun’s lips, an order fatal and absolute, undeniable. He had come untouched, moaning Jaehyun’s name with mind far gone. At the time, he had not known, but for the first time, Taeyong experienced what he later learned as ‘falling under’. Subspace. Where everything is thick cloud of cotton candy and liquid gold. Shimmering wave of unending pleasure shrouding him.

When Taeyoung returned to, Jaehyun was kissing him; his sweat-slicked temple, his nose, his closed lids, his tears-stricken cheeks, his lips. Murmuring his praises, gentle and adoring. Taeyong almost came again here and then, heart stuttering. He didn’t until Jaehyun told him, big, dark eyes shining with earnest admiration and gratitude. “You’re so good, Hyung. So good to me.”

They fucked once again; this time Taeyong riding Jaehyun in maddening pace, under Jaehyun’s plea – his command, and Taeyong braced himself on the broad shoulder, bitten-nails digging in to claim his territory. His third orgasm sent him unconscious, and when he woke up, it’s in the bath tub with Jaehyun’s arms around him and water lapping at their skin, tender lips pressing shy kisses on his wet hair.

Later once they’re all cleaned up, red-blemished skin hidden under the soft material of pajamas, they huddled together with Taeyong’s laptop on his laps, Jaehyun sitting behind him with his legs on either side of Taeyong’s body, peering on the screen over the smaller man’s shoulder.

They came to understand their preferences, learning new things and discovering themselves with every newly opened tabs and windows. It was fascinating, thrilling, and exhilarating. Like the sex they just had. Like the prospect of what this type of relationship could offer.

Taeyong’s cock throbbed when they reached the page about collars and cane. He felt Jaehyun shuddered at the mention of cuffs and furniture. But he pressed a kiss, so long and heartfelt-fond at the small behind Taeyong’s ears when they read about consents. Safe words and colors. Green and red. Subspace and aftercare.

“I will take care of you, I promise,” he sealed the vow on Taeyong’s skin, right above his pulse. Taeyong drifted ashore, serene under billowing clouds. “Will you be good then, for me?”

A place far away and beautiful; Jaehyun’s dominion. “Yes,” Taeyong breathed out, dazed with euphoria.  “Yes, Sir, I will. I will be good for you.”

How easy they fell into this ritual is actually scary, there was practically no hesitation and little reluctance. The fear of being caught was there, but they remembered how the management had said it’s better to have relationship inside rather than outside, easier to contain regardless of how illicit it is. And illicit is their affair, Taeyong could imagine the wreck that would happen if they’re found out. Ugly. Horrible like train-wreck. World-end catastrophe. His reputation is a ruin as it is, aggravating Taeyong further, but the sex was – _is_ – good, mind-blowing. It made Taeyong forget about the stress, bashing away the crippling expectation to deepest part of oblivion

Jaehyun is good, too, amazing even. He’s stunning when he’s in all Dominant mode, commanding, touch compelling and wordless eyes imperious. Just one word from him, and Taeyong can come, unraveled without a single touch. He learned about what Taeyong likes as quick as Taeyong learns what he does.

Thick, silky collar around fragile neck. Snap of large palm on sensitized skin. Leather cords that bounds seemingly breakable wrist together in unforgiving clasp. Skin red and raw from friction. Loving praises falling from searing lips, worshipping in its journey to assert his empire.

The best thing is how kind Jaehyun is. He’s not quite like the traditional Dominant that Taeyong read. He’s incredible once the mantle of authority is fastened around his collar, but when he takes care of Taeyong after – thoroughly fucked and blissed to the point he almost forget himself – he’s aeon beyond that.

Possessive fingers mellow down to attentive clumsiness, rubbing comforting circle on the small of Taeyong’s back to ease him down from his high. Dictatorial words fell to liberating whisper, asking him of his well-being and what he needs. Apology would spill from those debauching lips some time, a jarring contrast to what he had spoken just a while ago when they lost themselves in ecstasy. Taeyong let himself be taken care of, pampered like a jewel princess from far away wonderland. Indulging himself in Jaehyun’s honey-luscious treatment.

In public, Jaehyun satisfies his need to _have_ Taeyong close with simple, seemingly friendly touches; hand on the elder’s shoulder, on his elbow, sometimes on his thigh even. Ten had jokingly said Jaehyun is fucking possessive and Jaehyun’s only response was a bashful grin; no rebuttal, not denying.

Taeyong loves the feeling of having Jaehyun’s touch on him; claiming, asserting his dominance. Controlled, Taeyong doesn’t feel as helpless as before, now having someone to guide – command him – he can keep his emotion in check easily, when he accidentally came across as rude on camera, or when his eyes were swimming with tears that threatened to spill. One single touch from Jaehyun, and the entire cells of his body would follow; _don’t cry, don’t speak, smile._

They’re not losing this; this thing that’s all wrong and crooked-angles but for them is just right. This relationship – this dynamic – is _good_ for them. It keeps the stress at bay. It makes Taeyong feels loved and protected. It makes Jaehyun feels strong and adequate. None of them want to put an end into this, so they keep it a secret.

Of night, night playful; teasing orders and equally inviting compliance.

Of nigh, night fulfilling; Taeyong’s pretty lips stretch around Jaehyun’s cock.

Of night, night adventurous; when Jaehyun fucks Taeyong over the bathroom sink with Taeil waiting beyond the door.

Of night, night sacred; words that could have mean as little as much as it alluded exchanged in mute, spilling in between their hesitant, languorous kisses. Hands that scoop up bedazzle dust of crushed diamond that kept on slipping from between the cracks of trembling digits. Eyes searching; scared and hesitant. Desperate like their helpless fingers, interlocked.

“You’re mine,” is his _I love you_ . And “I’m yours,” is his _I need you_.

And now Jaehyun is kissing him like he’s pouring all of him into Taeyong, consuming. Taeyong gives in to his Dominant, turning pliant in his arms, eyes open; still wide open because Jaehyun has told him to. Law undeniable.

“Your imagination, hmm?” Jaehyun asks, voice no more than hushed whisper. The cold that’s been scratching mercilessly on his throat gives rougher edge to his voice, sending mind-numbing tingles down Taeyong’s spines. “You sure you wrote the song based on your imagination?”

Without warning, Jaehyun lets go of his dark hair, using both arms, he hoists Taeyong’s legs up instead, fastening it around his hips. Their erections met in between, Taeyong moans at the feeling of Jaehyun’s rock-hard cock on his own, tip already leaking. “Not quite, “ he managed to curves up a smirk, “maybe.”

“Bad, bad, Taeyonggie-hyung,” Jaehyun rolls up onto him and Taeyong chokes out another whine, eyes not falling close, still wide open for he is _good_ , good for Jaehyun. “You shouldn’t lie, you know. Do you know what happened to bad boy? They got their punishment.”

“Will you punish me then?” Taeyong smirks still, rutting back to Jaehyun’s dizzying heat, earning himself a rugged groan. He catches them in his lips, teeth biting on tender flesh, head spiraling at the mention of punishment; _leather crop? Bound?_ “Though I’m sure I didn’t lie, not really.”

Jaehyun pulls on Taeyong’s ankle, a practiced-sign. Taeyong fastened his legs around Jaehyun’s waist, holding on his shoulder closer as Jaehyun’s hand starts to wander down his hips, past the tender globe of his ass, and stops somewhere around his entrance. His eyelids drop, and Taeyong’s breathe catches.

“Jaehyun-ah,” he doesn’t have chance to continue because Jaehyun’s finger – long and dry – enters him in one swift movement. Taeyong gasps in pain, eyes opened wide like he’s seeing for the first time. His inside burns, tears pricking on the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill. _This_ , he thinks, is his _punishment_ , sweet, sweet punishment.

His legs wobble but Jaehyun is quick to catch him, holding his ankles together, pressing him harder to the wall. Their sticky cocks slide against each other in wet, vulgar sound. “Color?”

Taeyong has to answer, he knows he has too because his dominant is asking him. But the pain is too maddening, distracting. The finger stills inside of him and Taeyong is desperate to have it move, to ease the stinging ache away, and dissolve it into twisted pleasure.

“Hyung,” Jaehyun asks once again, authority-rich baritone. “Color?”

Exhilarating fear creeps down Taeyong’s back, a wash of distorted titillation. “Green,” he gasps out, trembling, “Green, Sir. Please, move, plea-Fuck!”

Taeyong swears loudly, jaws clenching shut when Jaehyun starts fucking him with one, dry finger. He keens shamelessly to the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, eyes half-lidded under the spell. Another finger joins in, and soon two become three. By the time Jaehyun has four fingers buried deep to the knuckle in Taeyong’s ass, the elder is half-gone already, cock leaking in between their aroused bodies.

“Jaehyunnie- Yoonoh-yah,” he sobs out, head unable to wrap around the right name.

“Sir,” Jaehyun – Yoonoh – his Dominant reminds him, nipping on his earlobes. “You feel so good around my fingers, Hyung. You’re taking me so well.” Taeyong almost drift off to distant land of spun-sugar and honeyed-gold, the only thing stopping him is the sudden possessive growl right on his ears, “don’t. Not yet. You’re not allowed to _go_ until I’m deep inside you, until I fuck you that you forget everything but that you’re mine.”

He complies immediately, roping himself back to the ground. Anchoring himself to Jaehyun and his compelling, inviting heat. “Yours, Sir. Always.”

“I’m going to fuck you now, I’m gonna make you mine,” _gonna make love to you_ goes unsaid, but Taeyong doesn’t have to hear it to know because Jaehyun is kissing him with sweetness of cotton candy and sureness of sunrise; blanket of all things warm and hopeful.

The kiss is slow, unhurried and bashfully sincere. Taeyong sighs into the kiss, mind already melting into puddle of rose-colored fuzziness. But then Jaehyun’s fingers slip out of him, leaving his hole fluttering at the chilly emptiness, and just as soon, the blunt edge of Jaehyun’s cock enters him, with the same swift precision and dryness of his finger earlier.

Taeyong moans, drawn long in mixture of pain and pleasure. Jaehyun fingers were dry, and they weren’t enough to prepare Taeyong but it’s nothing compared this; Jaehyun is huge, impossibly so, and he’s dry, and Taeyong feels fuller than he ever felt before with how he’s being filled, stretched at places he didn’t think he could be stretched. This time Jaehyun doesn’t still, he starts thrusting immediately in a pace; slow but still fast enough to make Taeyong bounces in his hold here and now.

“Fuck,” Taeyong arches his back when Jaehyun hits a part inside of him that makes him not only seeing stars but actually touching them; surrounded by the self-sufficient blinking celestial rocks, woozy and dazzled. “Sir-“

“Here?” Jaehyun hits that spot again and Taeyong falls apart then, splintered into million pieces silvery onyx for Jaehyun to catch and put together. Just for him to break it again later, some other night, some other day. After some other schedule, and another touches that linger longer than necessary. “Answer me, Sub.”

Sub. The term rings a loud, hypnotizing bell inside his head. Sub. He is. It’s him. He – Lee Taeyong – is Jaehyun’s Submissive, he belongs _to, for_ , and _with_ him. Jaehyun – His Dominant, his ever so kind and loving dominant, who loves to play his fingers on Taeyong’s thigh when they’re sitting together while attending Award Ceremony; his Dom who fell into stillness when Taeyong had tauntingly curled his fingers around the base of his neck for thousands of camera to see.

(Jaehyun had dragged half-asleep Taeyong at four in the morning after that Award show, fucking him slow and deep while whispering his congratulation, of how good of a leader Taeyong is for them, and how naughty, naughty he had been).

The role they had given each other. Crowns bestowed. Here in the cold, damp bathroom is one scene from the little movie of theirs. The spotlight is now falling on Taeyong, skin rippling with pleasure and mouth falling open, forgetting his lines to the sensation of having Jaehyun moving achingly sweet inside of him, filling every single nook and cranny, leaving no spot bare. Completing him as he takes him toward completion.

Taeyong faintly registers the frown that suddenly appears on Jaehyun’s face, his mouth thins into grim line, and he aborts his movement. The loss of friction makes Taeyong whimpers in disappointment, but Jaehyun’s fingers are losing their commandeering strength as he runs gentle thumb on Taeyong’s high, slippery cheek-bones. “Hyung, are you okay?”

 _Hyung_ . Not _Sub_ , but _Hyung_ . _Are you okay?_ Not _Color?_

Taeyong knows then it is Jung Jaehyun in front of him, his dearly beloved, baby-precious junior Jung Jaehyun. His Sir but not quite. Jaehyun, _just_ Jaehyun who’s worried about him when he had started cleaning just to vent off his frustration and would act cutely in front of him when Taeyong’s face had become jaded with exhaustion.

His heart flutters, with affection, with unadulterated fondness. Smile slips easily into his face, trembling hands rise to cradle the exquisite face marred with color of concern. This is why Jaehyun is _good_ , because he cares for all of Taeyong; role or no role. “I’m okay,” he replies, thankful and sincere. “You’re so good inside of me, you make me feel good.”

 _Make me feel cherished, make me feel loved. And I’m yours, eternally yours_ , Taeyong says in his kiss, another emotion unspoken yet understood. Jaehyun kisses back just the same in answer, accepting and giving, promising him with love and safety; _I will take care of you, you’re mine. So perfect for me._

Jaehyun moves again then, hitting that previous spot that makes Taeyong befriend the stars. The elder loses himself in the intoxicating thrust and kisses, hands exploring and charting Jaehyun’s back with blunt fingers that would surely leave red welts in the morning.

They do not pick up pace, but it’s not like they need it anyways. Jaehyun can easily make Taeyong come undone, with no single touch to his weeping cock, just a word, one word, and they flow out from Jaehyun’s mouth, sweet like honey, “Come, Sub. Come for me.”

Taeyong does as commanded, with fingers twisting on Jaehyun’s whitish gold hair, mouth opened in silent scream. He spills his cum; sticky, thick gooey on their stomach. Jaehyun fucks him through his orgasm, same space, same dizzying tempo, murmuring words of appraisal to Taeyong’s sensitized skin.

“You’re perfect, Hyung. God, so obedient.” He presses kiss into the tip of Taeyong’s nose, and then he says, “you can close your eyes.” Taeyong breathes in relief of finally being able to shut his eyes. Jaehyun’s kisses on each of his closed lids come almost immediately.

His thrust starting to become desperate somewhere, uncoordinated and headlong, making Taeyong’s toes curl as his spent member twitches alive once again. In the end when Jaehyun eventually comes, permeating hot, like virus invading, Taeyong also climaxes together with him, this time with no order.

Jaehyun lets go of Taeyong’s ankles, reaching blindly to twist the shower knob. Stream of cold water falls at the same time when their sated bodies slid down together the floor; Taeyong with his legs still curled around Jaehyun’s waist and the younger with his knees on the floor, cushioning Taeyong’s tender hips from touching the cold tiles.

They spend lazy minutes kissing, slow dance of leisure, unhurried tongues. Once they’re finally back from their high – Taeyong resurfacing from under, they share one last, close-mouthed kiss. Just smiles pressing together. Chaste and innocent.

“So,” Jaehyun gauges, smirking. “Not lying, then?”

Taeyong copies his expression, eyes twinkling with gaiety. “Not lying, because I didn’t do anything bad. This, us,” he knocks their wet head together, “not bad. Not bad at all.”

“Because we are good,” Jaehyun agrees, “we are _good_ together.”

Taeyong almost drops down back under again then, especially when he remembers he still has Jaehyun deep inside of him. But Jaehyun got a secure grip around him, bounding them together, and Taeyong thinks, as pleasant as it is losing himself in thick, fuzzy blanket of rapture, nothing compares with being in Jaehyun’s arms; belonging with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back on January 12th when I was dizzied by the influx of jaeyong’s pictures, thinking; why isn’t anybody writing a jaeyong based on this at all???? His hands??? Then right the next days, Limitless Room had to happen, and; yeah, that’s totally so dom-sub material, Jung Jaheyun, you practically made me write this.
> 
> I tried to emphasize on the ‘vanilla part’ of the Dom/Sub bond because I’m a hopeless romantic like that, and I cannot write smut. How did you do it @ favorite authors ??
> 
> gigitaeil@twitter or bosamiwa@tumblr, I'm in desperate need of jaeyong friend~


End file.
